Romeo and Juliet, Act 1, Scene 2

But Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and ’tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace.

But Montague is bound by the same order as I am, under the same penalty; and I don't think it's hard for men as old as we are to keep the peace.

Of honourable reckoning are you both, And pity ’tis you liv’d at odds so long. But now my lord, what say you to my suit?

You are both of honourable standing, and it's a pity you lived at odds so long. But now, my lord, what do you say to my request?

But saying o’er what I have said before. My child is yet a stranger in the world, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Let two more summers wither in their pride Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Only what I've said before. My child is still new to the world; she hasn't yet seen fourteen years go by. Let two more summers fade in their full bloom before we can think her ready to be a bride.

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

Girls younger than she is have been made happy mothers.

And too soon marr’d are those so early made. The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; And she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom’d feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love, and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house look to behold this night Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well apparell’d April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be: Which, on more view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning none. Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out Whose names are written there, [gives a paper] and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

And those married so early are ruined too soon. The earth has swallowed all my children but her; she is the one hope left of all I own. But court her, gentle Paris, win her heart; my wish is only one part of her consent. If she agrees, within the range of her own choice lies my consent and my glad approving voice. Tonight I'm holding a feast I hold every year, to which I've invited many a guest, people I love; and you among the crowd — one more, most welcome, makes my number greater. At my humble house expect to see tonight stars that walk the earth and make the dark sky bright. The kind of pleasure that vigorous young men feel when April, finely dressed, treads on the heel of limping winter — just such delight among fresh young girls you will have at my house tonight. Listen to them all, look at them all, and like best the one whose worth is greatest; and after seeing many of them, my daughter, being one, may count in the crowd, even if she counts for nothing on her own. Come, go with me. — Go, fellow, tramp around through lovely Verona; find out the people whose names are written there, [gives a paper] and say to them that my house and my welcome wait on their pleasure.

Find them out whose names are written here! It is written that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned. In good time!

Find out the people whose names are written here! It's written that the shoemaker should work with his measuring stick and the tailor with his shoe-block, the fisherman with his paintbrush and the painter with his nets; but I'm sent to find the people whose names are written here, and I can never find what names the writer has written here. I must go to someone educated. Just in time!

Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning, One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another’s languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.

Come on, man, one fire burns out another's burning; one pain is made less by another's agony. Get dizzy, and cure it by spinning the other way. One hopeless grief is cured by another's suffering. Let your eye catch some new infection, and the foul poison of the old one will die.

Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.

A plantain leaf is excellent for that.

For what, I pray thee?

For what, tell me?

For your broken shin.

For your grazed shin.

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Why, Romeo, are you out of your mind?

Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp’d and tormented and—God-den, good fellow.

Not mad, but tied up tighter than a madman is: locked in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tortured and — good evening, my good man.

God gi’ go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

God give you good evening. Please, sir, can you read?

Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Yes, my own fortune in my misery.

Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can you read anything you see?

Perhaps you learned that by heart. But please, can you read anything you look at?

Ay, If I know the letters and the language.

Yes, if I know the letters and the language.

Ye say honestly, rest you merry!

You speak fairly. Keep well!

Stay, fellow; I can read.

Wait, fellow; I can read.

Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters; The lady widow of Utruvio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; My fair niece Rosaline and Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena.

Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselmo and his beautiful sisters; the widowed lady of Utruvio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; my uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my lovely niece Rosaline and Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena.

A fair assembly. [Gives back the paper] Whither should they come?

A fine gathering. [Gives back the paper] Where are they supposed to come?

Up.

Up.

Whither to supper?

Where, to supper?

To our house.

To our house.

Whose house?

Whose house?

My master’s.

My master's.

Indeed I should have ask’d you that before.

True, I should have asked you that first.

Now I’ll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry.

Now I'll tell you without your asking. My master is the great rich Capulet, and if you're not from the house of the Montagues, please come and knock back a cup of wine. Keep well.

At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov’st; With all the admired beauties of Verona. Go thither and with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

At this same yearly feast of Capulet's, the lovely Rosaline you love so much will be having supper, along with all the admired beauties of Verona. Go there, and with an unprejudiced eye compare her face with some that I'll show you, and I'll make you think your swan is a crow.

When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire; And these who, often drown’d, could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars. One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun.

When the devoted faith of my eye upholds such a lie, then let my tears turn to fire, and let these eyes, so often drowned and yet never dying, clear-seeing heretics, be burned for lying. Someone more beautiful than my love? The all-seeing sun has never seen her equal since the world first began.

Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois’d with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales let there be weigh’d Your lady’s love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now shows best.

Come on, you thought her beautiful with no one else beside her, weighed only against herself in each of your eyes. But in those crystal scales let your lady's love be weighed against some other girl that I'll show you shining at this feast, and the one who looks best now will hardly look good at all.

I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of my own.

I'll come along, not to be shown any such sight, but to delight in the splendour of my own love.